The Dying Wish
by Valyriana
Summary: Starts off in book three. Lupin is a good werewolf, takes his potion and stays away. Snape also doesn't show up. Sirius stands alone against Pettigrew and three teenagers, one of which very much wants to kill him. Sirius is more than willing to allow this – but on his own terms. And first he has to kill a certain rat… Sirius B., Harry P. Some violence and angst. Rated M for safety.
1. A Wish to Kill

The Dying Wish of Sirius Black

**Summary:** Starts off in book three. Lupin is a good werewolf, takes his potion and stays away. Snape also doesn't show up. Sirius stands alone against Pettigrew and three teenagers, one of which very much wants to kill him. Sirius is more than willing to allow this – but on his own terms. And first he has to kill a certain rat… Sirius B., Harry P. Some violence and angst. Rated M for safety.

A/N: As I'm not a native Speaker of English (or writer, for that matter) please have mercy when judging my language. And don't be shy to report any mistakes, I'll gladly correct them! Also, this is my first HP fanfiction. I hope you like it.

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1. A Wish to Kill

Harry was running, Hermione right behind him. Trying to make as little noise as possible, they followed the trace on the floor, where Ron's body had left a smear of dirt and blood in the dust. Where was that ominous black dog?  
He heard Hermione's whisper that they were in the Shrieking Shack, but he didn't care. They had to find Ron before….

Harry entered the room and saw his best friend. Ron was laying on the floor at the wall to his right, motionless, his face white as death. He had lost consciousness. Without even looking left, Harry started off in his direction, but before he could cross the room, he heard a shriek behind him, and a raw, deep whisper: _"Stupefy."_  
Hermione's body sank to the floor with a thud.  
Harry whirled around, but his wand was already ripped out of his hand by the next whisper, _"Expelliarmus."_ Harry's eyes followed the piece of wood that was flying a graceful arc before landing in the dirty hand of none other than Sirius Black. The criminal's face contorted into a weak smile, which was even worse than the dark expression he had worn in all the mug shots. He was in a ragged state, his robe hardly more than faded shreds of fabric over black trousers, his hair and beard long and wild, the wet locks tumbling over his shoulders. He was thin and looked worn-out, save for his eyes, which betrayed an intense energy, a murderous intent. Despite his crouched stance, he was still more than a head taller. Shock numbed Harry's body for a second. His gaze fell to the floor, saw the paw prints of the hound which stopped directly at Black's heavy boots. How could they have been so stupid? He could turn into a hound. He was the Grimm.

Harry made a lunge for Hermione's wand, but the next spell knocked him from his feet and he ended up on the floor at the other end of the room, next to Ron. Scrambling to his knees, he could only helplessly watch as Black raised his wand again.  
_"Silencio"_, the raw voice whispered and he moved his wand in a gesture that encompassed the whole room. Harry opened his mouth to scream for help, but not a single sound left his lips. Black had effectively silenced him. Then he stepped around Hermione's lifeless body, threw one look outside the door, and closed it shut.

"So", he said. "Now to you, Pettigrew."  
Harry only now recognised that there was a trembling rat in Black's free hand. It was Scabbers, and judging by the blood running down Black's fingers, the rat was biting every bit of flesh it could reach. Harry silently encouraged it, but then Black rasped his next spell and the rat turned into a pitiful, ugly man before Harry's eyes. Dumbstruck, he could only stare.

The small man tossed about on the floor and was begging without voice.  
"Hello, Peter… long time no see." Black's voice dripped darkly with sarcasm. "You may speak your last few words, you piece of shit." He flicked his wand at the man and suddenly, Harry could hear his voice. It was high and squeaky, and shrill with fear.  
"Sirius… no, please, don't kill me, Sirius!", he begged. "I didn't… I never wanted… It wasn't me!" He looked half like a rat himself, and one of his fingers was missing. Harrys brain slowly started working again, although his body still felt numb.  
Sirius Black gave a hard, cruel laugh. "Pointless, Wormtail. Don't waste your breath. You know I will kill you. You know you deserve it, don't you?" He stepped closer to the trembling form of what Harry now realised was Peter Pettigrew, the man who Sirius allegedly had killed twelve years ago together with a dozen of muggles…. Only that Peter, as it seemed, had survived the attack and was still alive. By the murderous look on Black's face however, he was about to change this fact right here and now.  
"Nooooooo", Pettigrew wailed. "Please, Sirius, you can't kill me… Weren't we all friends? You, and James, Remus and me… You can't kill your old friend!"  
"Friend?" Black spat the word like an insult. "Stop babbling, you scum. And don't _ever_ dare to call their names again! It's all over. They're dead, and it's high time you followed them."  
As Black raised his wand, Harry finally found he could move his muscles again. He had no idea what was going on, but Black was about to kill Peter for the second time and the little man was helpless, that much was clear. Harry jumped forward and tried to reach Black's wand hand, but the criminal reacted a split second before he got there.  
_"Immobiliate"_, he croaked. Harry felt his body freeze on the spot, cursing inwardly.  
"Not… bad", Black said with a gasp. "You are as quick as James… but there is one thing I have to do before –" He interrupted himself and brought his wand down on Pettigrew, who, as Harry could see from the corner of his eyes, was wildly digging for his wand in his pocket.  
_"Petrificus Totalus!"_  
Pettigrew froze and fell on his side, his wand landing on the floor with a soft clang. Black was breathing harder now, his arms trembling, as if every spell cost him great amounts of energy. Harry, who only stood a step away from him, could not only smell his sweaty, dirty body, but also see in detail how twelve years in Azkaban had hollowed this man out. He was nothing but bones and skin, but the fire in his eyes never wavered. He stared at Pettigrew with a mixture of disgust and cold hatred.  
"You should not have wasted your last few words on me", he rasped. "You should have used them to apologise to Harry here. Apologised and expressed your remorse, maybe, before going to hell. Yes, Peter… this is Harry Potter. You spent the last three years in his company, you should have had lots of chances to feel remorse."  
Harrys eyes, the only thing he could still move at will, wandered involuntarily from Black to Pettigrew. The small man had grown pale and tears welled in his eyes.  
Black took a step back and raised his wand.  
_"Stop! Don't kill him!"_, Harry screamed, but again no sound left his lips.

Sirius Black smiled. _"Avada Kedavra."_  
Horrified, Harry watched how the light left the eyes of Peter Pettigrew and his small body stopped trembling. He wanted to retch. Even more, he wanted to kill Sirius Black. But he knew he would not get another chance. The only reason Harry was still alive seemed that Black's business with Pettigrew was even more important.

"Harry." The dark, rasping voice was closer now. Harry clenched his teeth.  
"Do you want to kill me, Harry?", Black asked. There was no sarcasm in his voice this time, but Harry knew he was only teasing with him. This man was mad, had been mad maybe even before Azkaban. As Harry still had no voice, he could only stare at Black, send him all his hatred and fury in one single glare.  
"Good", Black said. "You really want to kill me." His voice sounded even stranger now. "You are right to hate me. I am the reason your parents are dead. I didn't wish it, but it's my fault, all my fault… James and Lily… God, you look so much like James." He nodded, very slowly, his eyes never leaving Harry's face. The young wizard squirmed furiously under the spell, trying to move, to reach Black, to stop him from calling his parent's names.  
"You are the only one who shall kill me, Harry. The dementors and the ministry will not get me, I promise you. I will wait for you in Godric's Hollow… in the house of your parents. Come alone, or I will disapparate. Come alone. I will wait for you as long as it takes." His voice gave out at this point and he coughed violently. When his fit subsided, he pointed to Pettigrew's dead body on the floor.  
"It was not me who murdered all those muggles back then. It was him, Pettigrew. He spoke the curse, hacked off his finger and disappeared in his rat form. Take his wand, Harry, and show it to Dumbledore. He can use the _Priori Incantatem_ to prove it. I'm not lying. Take the wand." He turned to Harry again, a desperate urgency in his voice.  
"And don't be sorry for that scum, Harry", he murmured. "He deserved to die, more than you can imagine."  
Harry would have shook his head, would have called Black the worst names he could bring up, but his body was still frozen. His heart nearly leapt out of his throat as the murderer came even closer until he stood directly before him.

"I will wait for you in Godric's Hollow", he rasped. "I know you will come. Don't drag anybody else into this. I will only allow _you_ to kill me… My godson."  
And with these words, Black did the most horrible thing Harry could ever have expected, even worse than killing Pettigrew right before his eyes: He stepped up and laid his arms around Harry, embracing him for one horrible, long second reeking of sheer madness. Harry felt his skin crawl. Then Black let him go, opened the door and was gone. About one minute later, Harry felt that he could move his limbs again and Hermione opened her eyes with a moan. Ron was unharmed as well, apart from his leg. Harry felt like waking up after a long, dreadful nightmare, only that the corpse on the floor was real.

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Thanks for reading!  
By the by, if perchance you have seen this plot somewhere before, please tell me. I'm aware that it's not exactly new or original, but couldn't find it written out anywhere yet and so I had to write it down... I don't want to copy anybody though.


	2. A Wish to get Killed

2. A Wish to get Killed

Sirius Black waited for death to come. He had reached Godric's Hollow two days after his encounter with Peter Pettigrew, entering the little town by night and covered under a stolen cloak. He remembered everything so achingly well. He had paused before the doorstep of Lily and James' old house, had made sure no wizard or witch was around, and then had very slowly and carefully entered the ground he had once known so well. It still looked exactly the same. Sirius felt like every last ounce of energy was draining from his body as he took in the half-destroyed house. His eyes stung as he entered it, carefully evading the conservation spells and adding a few other spells, which would make it near impossible for any wizard to detect him. As he wandered through the house he felt an assault of memories, most of them full of pain but also full of beauty. He had been here nearly every day since Harry's birth until word of the danger threatening the Boy had reached them. All too clearly he remembered James' and Lily's joy over the birth of their firstborn, and his own joy and pride as a godfather…  
He had waited so long for the chance to come here, to finally say goodbye to his old friends, and to express his never-ending remorse over their deaths. Twelve years ago he'd had no time, had barely managed to rescue the baby with the scar from this wreckage and handing it to Hagrid before chasing after Pettigrew…and landing in Azkaban. Oh yes, he'd had lots of time to feel remorse, but what was that worth in prison?

As Sirius moved upstairs and reached what had once been Harry's child's room, now broken in two and exposed to wind and moonlight, he sank to the floor and wept.

Later, he began to wait. First days, then weeks he waited, never leaving the house. He had promised to wait for his death and was afraid to miss it. He barely ate anything, safe for a few things he summoned from neighbouring muggle's houses. It was not meant to fill his belly, only to keep him alive and awake long enough. It was the beginning of summer and Sirius watched the wild flowers in the Potter's garden blossom all around him. He tried not to see the beauty of them, and failed. They were as beautiful as his past, as his memories. Yet Sirius shied the sunlight and withdrew into the darker corners of the house during the warm hours of the days. He did not belong here; he belonged to the cold shadows under cold stones, where he maybe would be reunited with James one day.

July came and went, then it was August and still Sirius waited. He cut his hair with the help of his wand, shaved and busied himself with a sewing needle, mending his robes as best as he could. Not that it mattered, but it kept him from losing his mind and it could not hurt to restore himself a bit. He would die a beggar and a murderer anyway, but in the presence of James and Lily's home he found it impossible to go to seed even more. When one morning he happened to catch his reflection in the shards of a broken mirror, he was startled to recognise traces of his former, younger self in his face. Eerily, he felt like looking into the past, and would not have been surprised to see James' face beside his own. But nobody appeared, apart from a few witches and wizards who came to visit the house from afar, never daring to enter this near-sacred place, and never seeing so much as a shadow of him. No dementors came, nobody from the ministry. Sirius was left alone with his memories.

In the last week of August, as he was beginning to lose his last shreds of hope, it finally happened. At first the visitor appeared to be no more than one of the many wizards who had travelled to Godric's Hollow to visit the famous house, but then the shape moved closer and deliberately stepped over the chain that marked the entry of the side. Sirius held his breath as he watched from the room upstairs. For a second, his godson looked so much like James that Sirius felt dizzy. Then Harry glanced up and his eyes found him. Kneeling, Sirius took his wand and threw it. It landed several feet away, skidded over the floor and finally fell over the edge of the exterior wall. With a barely audible sound, it landed between the flowers. Sirius saw Harry bend to pick it up, and then he heard the creaking of the door. He waited patiently for Harry to come to him, only allowing himself to turn around to face the door. Compared to the torture of the last months, this was nothing. It only took a few minutes until Harry arrived at the door, an unfathomable look on his face. He was much calmer than Sirius had expected, and he somehow seemed to have grown older over the summer months – Although that could also just be his imagination. Most remarkably, Harry had not drawn his wand. The one he held in his hand was Sirius', but he surely wouldn't use that one…

With a clanking sound, the wand landed at Sirius' feet, where Harry had thrown it.  
"You will need this", Harry said.  
"Wait", Sirius managed to utter, his voice hoarse from disuse. He had feared that his pure, noble godson would want to duel him, but he could not fulfil this wish.  
"Don't use magic, Harry. You are still underage. I'm not worth that you risk getting expelled from Hogwarts."  
"That's not – ", Harry begun, but Sirius interrupted him, urging to get the words out.  
"There are other ways to kill me. You don't need to use magic, I won't hinder you. Throw me over the wall here, stab me, or…" His gaze fell to his wand and he shuddered suddenly. "Or ask me to kill myself… Is that what you want? I'll do it." His voice failed him and as he reached for his wand, he glanced up. And saw horror in his godson's eyes.

"NO!", Harry shouted and lunged forward. He snatched Sirius' wand from the floor and stared wild-eyed at the older man. "Are you crazy? I'm not here to… you can't die!"  
Sirius blinked. He could not say how it happened, but suddenly Harry was on the floor in front of him and grabbed his shoulders fiercely.  
"Nobody will kill you, do you hear me? Least of all yourself! You are innocent; you are my godfather and my last family and I…" He swallowed and suddenly tensed. "Listen, um…. Sirius."  
The one addressed could only stare in wonder as Harry called him by his first name for the first time.  
"I did what you told me. I went to Dumbledore and told him everything that happened and he investigated Pettigrew's body and his wand. He used that spell you named, and revealed the last spells Pettigrew had used. It proved that Pettigrew created the explosion that killed all those muggles, just as you said."  
Sirius nodded, relieved. At least this blame he would not have to carry in his grave.  
"But there was more", Harry went on. "The second last spell Pettigrew had used was the one that had made him the secret keeper of my parents."  
Sirius stared at his godson and in that moment he realised that Harry indeed hat no intention of killing him. He suddenly felt dizzy. He had not thought that far when he had urged Harry to investigate Wormtail's wand. He had never imagined that it could be proven that Pettigrew was to blame for _that_ crime as well. In fact, Sirius Black had all but forgotten that the man who had betrayed James and Lily had not been himself.  
And yet…  
"It is still my fault, Harry." His voice nearly abandoned him. "I urged them to choose Pettigrew instead of me. I thought he would be perfect – always so weak and small, surely Voldemort would never have suspected him. I even hid myself, to draw all the suspicions to me. That's why I wasn't here when… when he came…" Suddenly it was unbearable to look into Harrys face any longer. The sympathy in those young eyes was killing him. "I'm so sorry", he croaked. "So sorry, Harry… James and Lily… I'm so sorry."  
"I know", he heard Harry's voice from somewhere above his knees. "We figured it all out. Dumbledore immediately went to the ministry with Pettigrew's body and wand. They all know you are innocent by now. Actually, the public version is that you killed Pettigrew trying to protect me, Ron and Hermione. So you might want to stick to that version of the story." He sounded nearly good-humoured.  
"But… how…", Sirius croaked.  
"Didn't you read the _Daily Prophet_ at least once all summer?", Harry asked in a startled voice. "They reported about you for weeks! People who know you gave interviews… Professor Lupin, an auror named Moody, and Dumbledore himself as well. Your name has been completely cleared. The ministry is actually looking for you in order to recompense you for those twelve years in Azkaban!"

Sirius laughed. That last part sounded so absurd, he could not help it. His laughter soon turned into a choking fit however and that silenced him.  
"Are you ill?", Harry asked, suddenly concerned. Sirius watched with wonder bordering on awe as his godson crouched before him and hesitantly laid an arm around his shoulder. He closed his eyes, his mind swimming. He had forgotten what human affection felt like. He had forgotten what _life_ felt like. He had prepared himself so carefully for death; he suddenly wasn't sure he could turn around and face life again. It seemed like an impossible endeavour.

"Why didn't you come earlier?", Sirius whispered. "I waited this whole summer for you, here in this house."  
"I'm sorry", Harry answered. He genuinely sounded so. "At first I didn't plan to come, I was so sure you would have read it in the _Daily Prophet_, or heard it from somebody. I had no idea you had actually gone to Godric's Hollow. I… well, I never told Dumbledore about it. After a month without anybody finding you, I started to suspect…" He paused for a moment, sounding very guilty.  
"A few weeks ago I realised I had to come here and look for you. But that turned out to be more difficult than I thought. You probably don't know my aunt and uncle… They are horrible." Sirius now made out a distinctive hardness in Harry's voice and his eyes narrowed.  
"Let's just say that they are the biggest muggles you can imagine. They don't understand anything about our world. And I couldn't use magic to get out of Little Whinging. I couldn't even send an owl, because they took Hedwig away from me. If Professor Lupin and Mr. Moody had not come to get me out, I would probably still be sitting in my room at home." The last word was spoken with a bitterness Sirius was very familiar with. He studied Harrys face carefully. It would seem his godson had grown up with a family about as awful as his own. He instinctively wished he could do something for the boy, for his young godson who had just turned fourteen and looked so much like James it hurt and at the same time it felt as if James was still alive and Sirius not left alone on this planet. Maybe it was because he finally was out of the dementors' reach, or maybe it was singularly Harrys doing, but breathing was all of a sudden much easier for Sirius Black and he felt lighter and warmer than he had for many years. And with a start he realised that he actually _could_ do something for Harry.

"I have a house, you know" he said before thinking twice. "I don't know if you wish me to be your godfather, or if you want to move out… I mean, I could understand if you don't want to…"  
"Are you crazy?" Harry asked, wide-eyed. "Leaving the Dursleys! When can I move in?"  
Sirius felt his cracked lips forming a smile.  
"By the way, I'm not the only one who came to see you", Harry admitted. "There are a few people waiting for you outside. Will you come with me?" He stood and cast a glance at the entrance of the premise. "They seem quite impatient." He reached his hand out and helped Sirius to his feet.

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I'm considering to write a sequel - tell me if you're interested! And thanks for reading! :)


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